


Lessons with Sirius

by fishwriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Snogging, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7333315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishwriter/pseuds/fishwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus, the quietest prankster, decides to have some fun with/make a move on Sirius by asking him for kissing lessons while the young Animagus is somewhat intoxicated, supposedly to prepare him for a Hogsmeade weekend with a girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons with Sirius

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a reaaaally old prompt that I dug up from my old "Inspiration" archive. It was kind of just me flexing my very rusty writer muscles by trying to return to an old OTP. Hope you enjoy!

Remus was always the quiet one of the group, and for some reason, people always assumed he was the “good” one, as well. Even, once in a while, his fellow Marauders forgot the magnitude of his cunning, which Remus would, once in a while, use to his advantage. It was a cold night, right after Christmas break of their fifth year that Remus approached Sirius, a pink flush high on his cheeks, murmuring, “Padfoot, can I have a word?”

Sirius, who had somehow managed to smuggle in firewhisky and was looking a little pink himself, turned immediately to his friend, sensing the somber mood. “‘Course, Moony,” he said with a glowing grin. “Somewhere quieter?” He gestured vaguely to the Gryffindors around them in raucous conversation, loud laughter carrying through the common room like a soundtrack, spearheaded by James and Peter, who were both standing on armchairs, dueling with, of all things, Sugar Quills. Remus nodded his assent, and the two boys slipped out to the boys’ dormitory, which became blissfully quiet as soon as Remus muttered a few incantations to block out the noise.

“Wha’ is it, Moony?” Sirius asked, flopping onto Remus’s four-poster with exaggerated drama. “Need some love advice? I saw you eyeballing Florence in Herbology. Anything I should know?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Remus’s flush deepened.

The lie flowed easily. “Actually… Kind of.” But before he could finish, Sirius shot to his feet with a hoot of excitement, promptly tripping over the blanket and falling on his face. Trying to contain the laughter threatening to burst forth, Remus helped his tipsy friend back to his feet. “You see… I wanted to ask her to go with me to Hogsmeade next weekend,” Remus explained patiently as Sirius gave up on standing and instead leaned all of his weight on Remus, who half-flung him onto the bed. “But, er, I’ve never…” He trailed off, looking half-expectantly, half-gloomily at Sirius. “You know.” Sirius continued to look blank, so Remus explained hastily, “Kissed anyone. And I don’t want to disappoint her, or anything, if she expects it, I mean, if she even says she’ll go with me at all, and I know you’ve got, er, more experience than I do, when it comes to these kinds of things…” He trailed off, realizing he was babbling, his face burning, not daring to meet Sirius’s eyes.

The silence seemed to last an eternity, and Remus finally chanced a glance up at Sirius, surprised to see the handsome boy was beaming at him.

“My Moony,” Sirius finally said, sounding a little choked up, “growing up… Alright, then, I’ll teach you the extraordinary art of snogging. You’ve made the right decision, coming to a master.” And without any further preamble, Sirius launched himself at Moony, who was too stunned to react. Unfortunately, Sirius missed, knocking them both to the ground.

“Argh! Padfoot! That’s my eye! I know I’m a beginner, but I’m pretty sure normal people don’t kiss with their eyes-- What in the bloody hell…” This time Remus couldn’t hold in a peal of hysteric laughter as he realized Sirius was now a huge dog that was frantically licking his face. “Sirius, I’m afraid you might be a little too drunk to do this right now…” And within the space of a breath, it was Sirius’s languid body on him, their foreheads nearly touching, Sirius’s grey eyes locked on his own amber orbs. The laughter ceased abruptly as Remus drew a surprised breath, and Sirius pressed their lips together.

Despite Remus’s nerves, Sirius’s suddenly relaxed demeanor put him at ease, and he leaned into the kiss, his stomach doing a backflip as Sirius’s tongue caressed his lower lip. Remus opened his mouth, tasting the hot tang of firewhisky, and something sweet, as though Sirius had had a few of the duelling Sugar Quills. Their hands found each others’ hair, and Remus gave a gentle tug, pleased to feel Sirius’s soft moan against his lips. 

A soft tinkling sound swept through the room, and Remus quickly pulled away, flushing at Sirius’s whimper of disappointment. “Someone’s coming up,” Remus explained softly, hauling Sirius to his feet. The black-haired boy still seemed a little disoriented ( _ How much firewhisky did he drink? _ Remus wondered), but he toppled over obediently onto his own bed as Remus quickly removed the charms he’d placed.

It was Peter who entered, looking exhausted. “‘M ready to sleep for a week,” he muttered plaintively to Remus. “Prongs is still at it, trying to impress Evans. Dunno why she doesn’t just go to bed.” Shaking his head, Peter crawled into bed. With a smile, Remus did the same.

\--

The next morning, James and Sirius both refused to budge from their beds, bemoaning their respective late nights, so Remus and Peter left them to wallow. Sirius, his head now a little less muddled by the emboldening firewhisky, didn’t know if he could bring himself to look Remus in the face. He kept replaying the previous night in his head, each time with a greater sense of embarrassment and a growing surge of jealousy for Florence. He hadn’t ever mentioned to Remus that he fancied other blokes, though he hadn’t gone through any extraordinary measures to hide it either. Had Remus even intended for Sirius to try to snog him, or had he only been looking for pointers? Not that he needed any, Sirius recalled, his face warming at the memory.

“Oi, Prongs,” Sirius called, wrenching himself out of his vortex of embarrassment. “You alive?”

“It’s a bloody miracle I’m not retching right now,” James moaned. “Did I drink  _ all _ of the firewhisky? I feel like I drank it all.”

“Nah, mate, you only drank half. I remember I drank the other half.”

James merely groaned in response, and Sirius grinned in spite of himself. “Well, Prongsie, I think I’ll head down to meet Wormtail and Moony, get some breakfast. Drink some water, and I'll check up on you afterwards.”

James groaned once more, and Sirius swept out in a flurry of robes. When he got to the Great Hall, Remus was engrossed in conversation with Peter, giving Sirius a moment to just drink in the sight of him, sandy brown hair curling around his ears, black robes draped loosely over his lanky body. Another fierce wave of jealousy crashed over him as he remembered Florence, and Sirius cut smoothly in between Peter and Remus, both of whom looked rather irritated at the interruption, but Sirius paid it no mind.

“Moony,” Sirius greeted warmly. “Good morning.”

“I see you managed to drag yourself out of bed, congrats,” Remus replied dryly, as Peter muttered a quiet, “I’m sitting here, too.”

“I think we need to go study. You know, how you asked me to help you in Charms.” Sirius offered Remus a wink, ignoring the dramatic eyeroll he received in response. “Right now would be best. In the library.” He knew no one would be in the library this early on a Saturday morning.

Remus let out a sigh, full of long-suffering. “Alright then. Sorry, Wormtail,” he said to Peter with a rueful smile, “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye Moony,” the mousy boy replied mournfully. 

Sirius enthusiastically grabbed Remus’s hand, half-dragging him out of the Great Hall and towards the library. Used to this spontaneous energy, Remus merely kept up, a small smile lingering at the corner of his mouth. When they finally got to the library, Sirius led Remus to a table in the back, tucked away behind a row of bookshelves. 

“Charms?” Remus asked, wry amusement thick in his words.

“I thought it was appropriate,” Sirius replied with a bright smile, though his face immediately turned somber, and he lowered his voice. “Now, Moony, I know last night I wasn’t… entirely… Er, well, let’s just say, I realise I may not have been at my best. I just wanted to make sure you got the full teaching experience. You did… fairly well last night,” and at this, Remus flushed, “but I don’t think it would hurt just getting a little more practice in. If you really want to impress Florence.” Sirius delivered his lines with the easy-going confidence bordering on arrogance he’d been cultivating for years, a lazy grin on his lips.

Remus eyed him for a brief moment, then said quietly, “I appreciate you helping me, Padfoot.” His cheeks flared somehow brighter as Sirius casually gripped the collar of his robes, drawing him close. 

“Anything for you, Moony,” he murmured, with a hint of playfulness colouring his tone. Their lips met for the second time in as many days, softly moving against each other half-parted, breath mingling as their tongues brushed together. Sirius tugged Remus closer, taking his lower lip between his teeth, sucking and worrying it before releasing it to once again dip his tongue into Remus’s mouth. Remus, in turn, ran the tip of his tongue lightly over Sirius’s lips as he tangled his fingers into his silken black hair, breaking apart just briefly to breathe before placing a trail of gentle kisses up Sirius’s neck to his ear. The dark-haired wizard stifled his moan with difficulty, noticing almost detachedly that Remus was now practically in his lap. He pressed his face into Remus’s shoulder, mumbling nonsense muffled by the werewolf’s black robes.

At that point, Remus pulled away, and Sirius had to swallow a growl, staring muzzily into Remus’s bewildered amber eyes. “Sorry?” the sandy haired boy said, sounding far more put together than Sirius would have liked. “I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”

“Why are you asking me for lessons?” Sirius countered, trying and failing not to sound grumpy. “You seem to be perfectly capable of charming the robes off pretty little Florence. You honestly haven’t kissed anyone before?”

If he was being perfectly honest with himself, Sirius could get used to the certain shade of crimson that Remus kept turning. The werewolf nodded, looking put-out. “You’re my first,” he said defensively, sliding himself back into his own chair. 

“Well, then, congrats, you’re a natural,” Sirius grumbled. At least if Remus hadn’t been very good, he would’ve had an excuse to continue these kissing lessons. “When were you planning on asking her?”

“Oh, I dunno, sometime this week if I can get her alone.” Remus affected an air of nonchalance that Sirius could easily tell was feigned, though he decided for once not to poke fun at it. “Do you think she’ll say yes?” There was a coy gleam in his amber eyes, and Sirius tried to scowl but ended up grinning instead.

“Of course I think she’ll say yes, you git. Who wouldn’t say yes to a romantic weekend stroll through Hogsmeade with the charming Mr. Moony?” 

Remus grinned back, looking a little abashed.

\--

Remus observed carefully as Sirius spent the week in an odd state of constantly fluctuating moods. He would go from uproarious laughter one second to sullen and resentful the next before boomeranging up again to smiling warmly at his friends. Finally, Thursday night at dinner, Remus half-listened to James and Peter rant furiously to each other about their detention with Filch while Sirius prodded listlessly at his pork chop. “Moony?” he said. “Have you asked Florence to Hogsmeade?”

“No,” Remus replied quietly, “I have not.”

“Well, you seem to be running out time,” Sirius said shortly, spearing a carrot on the end of his fork. And he couldn’t hold it in anymore. The laughter boiled up and out of Remus, and the effort of trying to get it under control brought tears to his eyes.

“Padfoot,” he laughed, “I am so sorry. I’m not going to ask Florence to go with me to Hogsmeade. I never intended to.”

Sirius looked immensely affronted, which merely increased the magnitude of Remus’s laughter. “What… Then what has all this been for? Who’ve you been planning on snogging? What if I’d asked Florence for you?”

“I know you too well,” Remus said, beaming. “I figured you weren’t going to ask her for me because you’d be too irritated that I liked her, but too supportive to discourage me.” Colour was rising in his face, but Sirius was sitting dumbfounded.

“I don’t understand.”

Remus slid his hand tentatively over Sirius’s. “I wanted you to go with me. And… and not just as mates.” His cheeks were saturated with red, and the corners of his eyes were crinkled in worry. “I also couldn’t pass up an opportunity to play a bit of a prank on you,” he added in a whisper.

“Moony,” Sirius said incredulously, his voice low and rough. “You’re not a werewolf; you’re much too clever. You must actually be a werefox.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever--” Remus began, but found his words suddenly muffled against Sirius’s lips, and he let out a strangled sort of squeak as slender arms wrapped around him. Heart thudding in his chest as he returned the kiss, Remus noticed distantly that James and Peter had stopped their complaining.

James watched keenly for a moment before shrugging and glancing at the gaping, open-mouthed Peter. “You didn’t see that coming, Wormtail?” he asked airily, grabbing some roast potatoes from Remus’s plate.

“Of course I did, but I didn’t realise that they’d just go at it all of a sudden in the middle of the Great Hall,” he said, brows furrowing. “Then again, how else would it have happened?” He sighed, casting one more half-amused glance at the snogging couple, before grinning at James. “Sorry, Prongs. I know you’re feeling left out, but I’m not kissing you.”

\--

The cold air seemed less harsh than it often did as Sirius and Remus wandered the streets of Hogsmeade, gloved hands gripping each other tightly, though they unsurprisingly ended up spending a great deal of their time sitting in the Three Broomsticks, all smiles and bright eyes over hot mugs of butterbeer.

It was just like any of the other Saturdays they’d spent at Hogsmeade, but with an exciting tension threading the atmosphere between them. Their thighs touched, first accidentally, then pressing against each other, and pink stained their cheeks, though that could easily be blamed on the bitter winter air, or the heat from the butterbeer. 

“I’m glad you asked me here with you, the way you did,” Sirius said, a soft smile on his handsome face. “It was perfect.”

“You’re perfect, Padfoot,” Remus countered loftily, smirking at the distinct blush his words evoked. “Florence could never hope to compete with you.”

“Well, of course not.” Sirius smiled broadly at the compliment, stretching out languorously, his arm settling around Remus’s shoulder in the most cliche gesture possible. He missed Remus’s eyeroll, but caught the delighted curve of his lips. “Anyway, I’m glad I could give you some pointers on how to kiss. Of course, practice is by far the most important.” His lashes veiled his soft grey eyes, and Remus forgot suddenly how to speak, or breathe for a moment until Sirius leaned in, and then the only thought he had was,  _ Sirius _ … 

  
  



End file.
